


Issues

by goldenthunderstorms (PotatosaurusOfBroadway)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Always, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Some Fluff, angst that ends with fluff, arguing angst, discussing simons ptsd, nonverbal simon, penelope is the hero, post uni, simon and baz are trying, temporarily nonverbal simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatosaurusOfBroadway/pseuds/goldenthunderstorms
Summary: He flinched, hard. He swung his arm around, wings taking up all the space possible, and he shoved me away from him.I fell back, grabbing the counter before I could hit the floor. I tried to mask the hurt at the action. Simon stared at me, his eyes blazing for a moment before they dimmed and he just looked confused.“Simon? What’s going on?” I asked, standing straight again. “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for his hand. He flinched again, jerking away from me. “What’s wrong, love?” I didn’t move this time to avoid scaring him.Simon didn’t reply to me, causing me to frown despite myself. If he was going to nearly push me to the ground, he could at least tell me why. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing came out. He still look confused and defensive.“You’re not even going to tell me?” I asked softly. Whatever shit we got through, we got through together. Simon was never like this with me.





	Issues

**Author's Note:**

> okay its mostly Penelope and Baz  
> but it has a cute ending  
> I got the idea at the gym and idk  
> everything I write is self indulgent

**Baz**

“Snow, I’m home!”

It had been a little more than a month since Snow and I had moved in together post-uni. It wasn’t like we weren’t already together practically all the time, but it was different now. I still got a kick out of being able to come home to Snow and kiss him whenever I pleased.

“Snow? You here, love?” I asked when there was no reply. I wandered into the kitchen to find him at the table, his wings spread around him like a shield. I chuckled. His wings would always be amusing to me. “Snow?” I asked, still no answer. He didn’t even move. “Simon?” I put a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched, hard. He swung his arm around, wings taking up all the space possible, and he shoved me away from him. 

I fell back, grabbing the counter before I could hit the floor. I tried to mask the hurt at the action. Simon stared at me, his eyes blazing for a moment before they dimmed and he just looked  _ confused _ .

“Simon? What’s going on?” I asked, standing straight again. “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for his hand. He flinched again, jerking away from me. “What’s wrong, love?” I didn’t move this time to avoid scaring him.

Simon didn’t reply to me, causing me to frown despite myself. If he was going to nearly push me to the ground, he could at least tell me why. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing came out. He still look confused and defensive.

“You’re not even going to tell me?” I asked softly. Whatever shit we got through, we got through together. Simon was never like this with me. I was trying to tread lightly but it was frustrating.

Simon just opened his mouth multiple times like he couldn’t get the words out and he shook his head quickly, huffing. The cruel part of me wanted to laugh, say  _ ‘Frustrated? Me too!’  _ but the sensible part of me said to say nothing before we blew up on each other. It wasn’t that Simon and I fought often, but we fought viciously, even though the hostility would only last a few hours before tearful apologies (the tears mainly being Simon’s). It was like when Simon used to go off, a short buildup and a quick, hot, dangerous result, that left everyone worried and tired.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, I’ll leave you alone. Clearly you don’t need me right now.” I spat, crossing my arms. My anger may have been unjustified, but it was hard to be a doting boyfriend when you’re almost shoved to the ground and given the silent treatment.

Now Simon looked frustrated as well, panicked, his breath picking up as he took a step back. He didn’t give any sign of wanting me to stay.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” I muttered, stomping past him and grabbing my keys, walking straight out. Though I wasn’t sure where I was going, I was going.

I didn’t go far, only to my car. I had started it but I was at a loss of where to go. I was tired, in all truth, and I’d wanted to go home and listen as Simon rambled and made dinner because it was his night to cook. Now, I sit in the car with the radio on a quiet rumble as I watch flames flick between my fingers.

There’s a loud  _ smack  _ on my window and I jump, the fire in my hand dying out. I look up to see Bunce, pressed against the passenger window. She looked frantic, knocking on the glass. Slowly, I rolled down the window and raised an eyebrow. She merely reached in, unlocking the car and hopping in.

“Can I help you?” I asked indignantly.

“What’s going on with you and Simon?” She asks sternly.

“Oh, so he’ll talk to  _ you _ ?” I asked. It may have been a little petty. Bunce was Snow’s best friend. But it only annoyed me more that he would talk to her and not me,  _ about  _ me, no less.

Bunce sighed, shaking her head. “On the contrary, actually.”

“What? Then how did you know there’s something going on between me and Simon?” I asked, rolling her window up as she leaned back in the seat.

“Well, he wasn’t answering my texts and calls went straight to voicemail. I came to check on him when I see tall, dark, and brooding outside—” she nudges me, “—so I assumed something happened.”

“Well I don’t know what’s going on with  _ him _ but I came home and he didn’t answer when I called for him. I found him in the kitchen, hunched over the table. I touched him and he fucking  _ shoved me _ , Bunce. I asked him what was wrong and he didn’t say anything. He just opened his mouth a bunch of times, glaring at me. He wouldn’t  _ talk _ , Bunce. And one of our main house rules—one of our main rules in general—is to talk to each other. We both promised to tell each other if something was wrong but . . . Crowley, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what I did wrong or—” I huffed, “I just don’t know.”

Bunce’s mouth hung open, staring wide-eyed at me. “You really don’t know? I thought he would have told you.” She muttered.

“Told me what?” I cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not really my information to tell, but I don’t have much of a choice since Simon couldn’t tell you if he wanted to right now.”

“What’re you on about, Bunce?” I asked, growing more uneasy by the second.

Bunce sighed, “Whenever Simon has his  _ bad days _ ,” she paused, meeting my eyes to make sure I caught her meaning. I nodded.

Simon’s therapist called it PTSD but Bunce and I just call it his  _ bad days _ . Calling it PTSD, something so harsh and medical, sounded like we were saying something was wrong with Simon. It wasn’t like PTSD wasn’t a problem for him, but he was getting better and I hated calling it that because it felt like labeling Simon as defective.

“Whenever Simon has his bad days,” Bunce continued, “I mean his  _ really bad days _ , sometimes he can’t speak. I did some research on it, they’re called nonverbal days. It happens with . . . trauma victims sometimes, especially if talking had something to do with the traumatic event. Along with Simon already having speech problems before because of being in the system, it only makes sense that trauma has an affect on his speech considering that him speaking was that killed The Mage, essentially.” Her voice grew softer as she spoke.

“Is that why he didn’t talk to me?” I asked quietly, now replaying the twenty minutes ago in our kitchen. It made more sense: Simon’s flinching, his panic, his confusion, his frustration. “Crowley, I’m a prat.”

Bunce nodded slowly, “I thought he would have told you by now, because you’re living together and all.”

I grimaced, “Why didn’t he tell me before? How long has this been happening?”

“It started a few weeks after the accident. Remember how he wouldn’t talk to anyone the day after? It’s the same concept.”

“That-That was four years ago! Why didn’t he tell me?” I started winding flames through my fingers, wondering what I’d done to cause Simon to hide this part of himself from me. I had meant it when I agreed to give him  _ this _ . I wanted all of him, not just the arse he used to be with me, and not a fake Snow with a plastered on smile.

Bunce put a hand on my arm. “You know why. Simon doesn’t want anyone to have to save him, or worse, pity him. Simon just wants to be better on his own. He doesn’t want us to feel bad for him.”

“I’ll never not feel bad for him, for what happened.” I shook my head.

“Me neither, but Simon still wants to be the hero. He wants to be the Chosen One and protect us all and not need any protection. When you two first got together and you went back to Watford, Simon would stress for  _ hours  _ about you. He worried you’d get bored of him, meet some mage at Watford who could give you more than he could with his trauma and his Normal-ness. It was more painful to listen to than any paranoia he ever had about you.” Bunce sighed, “And now, before you moved in together, he worried. He worried you would get tired of him, of being stuck with someone with no magic, trauma, and wings that got in the way. Merlin, Baz, he’s so in love with you. He’s terrified to lose you,”

“I—” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The flames grew and Bunce cracked a window.

“But you know what I told him? I told him that ‘Maybe you have issues and maybe things are different and maybe they’ll be difficult, but Baz has issues and he’s difficult too—”

“That’s fair.”

“—and you love him more than anything in the world.’ I told him, ‘If you love Baz with all his issues, all his pretentious arsehole-ness—”

“Hey!”

“—and everything else, he loves you just as much.’” She finished, a proud smile on her face.

I sighed, nodding. “Crowley, Bunce, you’re right. Damn you,” I grumbled, turning off the car, opening the door and getting out of the car again.

Bunce got out as well. “Are you going to talk to him?”

I nodded, “I’m going to do my best.” I left Bunce in the parking lot, going back up to Snow and I’s flat. I slipped inside quietly. I didn’t find Simon in the kitchen this time. I went to our bedroom, knocking gently. I parted the door and he wasn’t in there either. Lastly, I checked the bathroom. I knocked and the door was already cracked. I leaned in, finding Snow curled into the fetal position in the bathtub, his wings folded in behind him. 

Baths were something Simon did to calm himself. Warm ones relaxed him when he was stressed or upset, but sometimes when he was in a bad state, the water would be scalding and he’d be burning himself with no care for it.

He looked up when I stepped in, eyes wide and wary.

“Can I come in?” I asked gently. Simon nodded. I stepped in and sat beside the tub, leaning back against the wall. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I talked to Bunce—well, she broke into my car and started talking to me.” I chuckled and it drew a small smile out of Simon. I offered my hand and he took it, lacing our fingers. I kissed his knuckles, each kiss lingering before I moved to the next. “She told me about these kinds of days when you . . . when you can’t talk. We spoke about it. I understand why you didn’t tell me but I wish you had, Simon. I’m here for you, love, always.” I squeezed his hand.

A tear slipped down Simon’s cheek and he nodded. I reached over and brushed it away, letting my hand trail through the water as I pulled back. It was warm, and Simon couldn’t have been here for very long, so I assured myself that he hadn’t scorched himself this time.  _ I’m sorry,  _ he mouthed.

I shook my head. “Don’t be, love. I get it, okay? We’ve both got baggage. But I’ll help you carry yours just like you help me carry mine. One day, maybe, we’ll get rid of it. But until then, I’m going to be here for you. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” I kissed his forehead.

Simon nodded again. He pulled on my hand, a small smile gracing his face.

“Snow, if you pull me into this tub, I swear to Merlin and Morgana—” I was cut off as he pressed his lips to mine, before he pulled me into the tub with him.


End file.
